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Post by bluebird on Feb 4, 2019 17:31:17 GMT -5
Gerry, thank you so much for your explanation of this poem, and for bringing up things I would have missed and so not enjoyed thinking about,
the Platonic idea of animism for example; It'b been many a year since I've enjoy the kind of conversation with friends as Hass describes ....
this kind of retreat or seclusion of like minded "souls" to think about the abstract...so I really enjoyed spending some time with your talk about
this poem. I made my own extensive notes in the margins of both the poem and your explanations and so this will be a reference for me for quite
some time and was a great lesson on our attempts to press language to reveal what has no form... one of my favorite images in the poem was the
poet's reference to loss (specifically in the poem of "her" presence but also the past in general) as "like a thirst for salt" because this turns everything
inside out...salt makes us thirst so thirsting for it is thirsting for what makes us thirsty...so exquisitely a description of the futility of trying to bring back
what's lost and yet "celebration" as you say, of it's ongoing power. About as close to the longing explored in "Waiting for Godot" (my all time favorite
play) as I've ever read.
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Post by betsey on Feb 6, 2019 20:53:13 GMT -5
I too appreciate more about this poem with Gerry's guidance. It still is the kind of meditation that drives me a bit batty. I realize that he is tying abstract (loss, thought, general) to the specific (woodpecker, blackberry, friend, justice, etc. and the woman) the dichotomies, as Gerry explains.
The poem starts moving, in my opinion, with the love affair that "had hardly to do with her," when Haas probes associations and the idea of associations.
Early on he is Emerson-like, so abstract I scratch my head, but the second half takes off, past becoming present, reverting to past. I admire the strong verbs like "dismantled" and the metaphors, days as good flesh continuing.
I return to this poem like a new acquaintance feeling increasingly familiar and appreciated (for the most part.) I struggle for the patience to let the poem be known, but realize the potential in the long run. I still feel that WCW would want to nail Haas to that tree, if not string him up!
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Post by Gerry on Feb 6, 2019 21:07:32 GMT -5
Betsey, I, too, admire "dismantled" as a verb, particularly for bread. It gives so much personality to the woman, doesn't it?
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Post by betsey on Feb 6, 2019 21:11:55 GMT -5
Yes. Glad you are up and about.
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linm
Junior Member
Posts: 92 
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Post by linm on Feb 7, 2019 11:34:52 GMT -5
I am so struck by this poem's ability to weave the abstractions through it. I love its elegance and the way the sentences are so varied and evenly paced. For me, the diction and pace submerge the abstractions until further reading, when they become puzzling. So I appreciate the explication, for sure. In the end, it feels like Haas wants it/ has it both ways, the word is elegy to the thing, life is about loss of all the real moments that comprise it, but still through his imagery we can savor the experiences again, at least somewhat. I too love the dismantling image; though for me it conjures a bit violence or aggression, perhaps of subtle anger. He feels "violent wonder at her presence" as he looks at her, holding her at a distance, hands on her "small shoulders." That "it" -- the thirst for the past she inspires -- "hardly had to do with her" is another distancing, as if all that has transpired between them hasn't been about her in particular. (I'd be mad!) "Desire is full/ of endless distances," because, it seems, he is always remembering, thinking. How he gets all this into one poem amazes me.
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Susan
New Member
Posts: 25
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Post by Susan on Feb 8, 2019 17:28:02 GMT -5
Most of what I wanted to say came up in our discussion Monday. I have so many notes on my copy, which I wrote before we met. One thing we did not discuss is the form of the poem - similar length lines, but a jagged right margin. The lack of distinct stanzas adds to the sense of things blending together, one slipping into the next. I like the way he spirals in and out of various abstract ideas and concrete images. That bird, that tree, that woman...then "Longing, we say, because desire / is full of endless distances. I want to study the line breaks over and over.
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Post by lildawnrae on Feb 8, 2019 20:08:47 GMT -5
What a lovely poem--it takes me back to those college days when we talked a lot, figuring out whether the general or the specific was more important--All those deep meditations and philosophical discussions. I think the speaker loves the specific most ultimately. Yet words seem to be in a grey area between abstraction and concrete objects. All words are abstract, yet they are a force as well.
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